


How it begins and how it ends

by EdwardianFred



Category: MorMor - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:48:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdwardianFred/pseuds/EdwardianFred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning and the end of Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How it begins and how it ends

**_The city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me?_ **   
**_'Til the skies bleeds ashes and the fucking skyline crashes_ **

Sebastian was drunk. Of course he was, it would be stupid to expect anything else. Ever since he had returned to London he had made it his mission to drink himself into oblivion. Nobody was entirely sure what had happened to him in India, and he certainly wasn’t offering any information. The only thing that anybody agreed on was that it wouldn’t be long until they were at his funeral. ‘And wouldn’t that be shocking because then Sir Augustus would have outlived his son and no father should have to do that’.

Not that Sebastian was paying any attention to these murmurings. He was slouched against a bar in some terrible corner of Hackney making considerably headway into a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

He jumped slightly, as a voice spoke next to him.  _There are more interesting ways to kill yourself, you know._ He turned to look at the speaker and was about to ask him what bloody business it was of his anyway, when he saw the man’s eyes and stopped in his tracks. It was the alcohol making him think like that, it had to be, and yet he was sure that there was something not quite.. right.. with the man. Surely those eyes were too dark and expressionless to be human? He shook his head slightly in the hope of clearing away some of the alcohol induced fuzz that was floating around his mind.

In front of him stood a slight, dark haired man in a dark blue suit. Sebastian could see a sudden glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes as the man surveyed him.  _I’ve got an offer for you Colonel Moran, no, don’t bother asking how, just understand that I know all about you. I know how much you miss shooting and that’s what I’d like to suggest to you.. Big Game hunting.. of a sort, anyway._ Sebastian watched as the man leant forward and slipped a business card into his jacket pocket.The man grinned suddenly and patted Sebastian’s cheek. Before he could retort the man had taken off, walking purposely towards the door. Sebastian gaped after him and reached into his pocket to draw out the card. He stared down at the writing on it.

_Come on tiger. The Hunt is on. James Moriarty._

-

Jim shifted restlessly in his armchair. His nimble fingers fiddled with the cuff of his Westwood suit. Sighing, he relaxed back into the chair and reached across to the small coffee table to pick up the dainty tea cup that rested on it. Before he had taken more than two sips he heard the sound of a key in the front door. Violently wrenching himself straight out of the chair, he stood for a moment, listening to the noises in the downstairs hallway. Although muffled he could clearly hear the sound of a pistol being cocked. He frowned and, placing his cup back onto the table, moved across the room and through a door into the adjoining bedroom. He stood behind the door, leaving it slightly ajar so he could see into the other room.

He could hear the stairs creak as somebody padded slowly up them, obviously trying not to be noticed. The footsteps halted outside the sitting room door and Jim held his breath. Through the crack in the bedroom door he watched as the living room door was pushed gently open and a man walked in. Tall and slender, with shaggy blond hair, the man was dressed in black jeans and a tight black t-shirt that did nothing to conceal his toned stomach and arms. Jim stifled a sigh and watched as the man began to make his way across the room to the chair Jim had sat in only moments before. He reached down and touched the tea cup, a frown flickering across his face as he realised that it was still warm. 

Before he had time to turn around Jim flung open the bedroom door and launched himself across the room onto the intruders back. Taken by surprise the man stumbled and Jim grabbed his chance. Using his full wait he managed to tip the man off balance so that he fell onto a near by sofa. Wriggling free, Jim manoeuvred himself so that he was sitting astride the surprised man. 

The gun fell from his hand as the man on the sofa lay staring up at Jim’s face. The look of anger slowly faded and was replaced with a smile as the small Irish man lowered his face to nuzzle the man’s neck and whispered ‘ _Sebby, I missed you’._

_-_

Sebastian arrives home to find Jim sitting on the floor surrounded by shards of glass, blood pouring steadily down one arm. He is staring off into the distance, his dark eyes glassy. Sebastian knows better than to ask questions and so heads into the kitchen to find the first aid box. He doesn’t speak when he returns to Jim. Just sits on the floor next to him and gently picks pieces of glass out of his arm with tweezers. It should hurt but Jim shows no reaction, even when Sebastian douses his arm in alcohol to disinfect the cuts. 

When he finishes bandaging Jim up, Sebastian carries him into the bedroom and places him on the bed. Jim curls himself into a ball, wraps his arms around his knees, and stares into a corner of the room. Sebastian watches him for a moment before he moves back into the sitting room to clean up the broken glass. It seems to him as though Jim had punched through one of the windows.

When he returns to the bedroom he sits on the bed next to Jim smoking cigarette after cigarette, never saying a thing. Eventually he feels a hand on his leg and looks towards his boss. Jim’s eyes are black and empty and Sebastian knows that look. Knows it too well.

"I’m going to burn him Sebby, burn the heart out of him" is all his boss says before he flings himself off the bed and strides into the other room. 

Sebastian sighs as he hears the sound of yet more glass breaking and follows after him. 

-

Sometimes, late at night, when they’re curled up together, Sebastian likes to pretend that this intimacy actually means something to the man sleeping quietly against him. He knows deep down that it doesn’t but that knowledge never fully manages to extinguish the spark of hope that leaps inside him every time he hears his lover whisper his name.

Sometimes, late at night, when they’re curled up together, Jim looks at Sebastian’s scarred face and wonders why he doesn’t love him. He can’t love, he knows that, but he likes to think that if he could he would love his Tiger.

Sometimes, late at night, when their bodies are pressed together and they move in unison, Sebastian’s tries to tell Jim how he feels. He can never get the words out though because Jim always knows what he’s going to say and stops him with a kiss.

Once, late at night, Jim let Sebastian complete his sentence without interruption. 

Once, late at night, Sebastian felt a rush of absolute fear.

Once, early in the morning, Sebastian woke to an empty bed and a text. 

_"St Barts. Two hours time. Be in the stairwell of the building opposite -JM"_

**Author's Note:**

> A few mormor drabbles that I found when clearing out some files. Turns out they fit together quite well.


End file.
